


All Tied Up

by allouette



Category: Chicago Med
Genre: M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-16 17:45:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7277734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allouette/pseuds/allouette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the same tie he gave Will after his help with Russell’s case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Tied Up

**Author's Note:**

> That tie is so important. Self beta'd so all mistakes are my own.

_‘You’re late.’_

Connor rolls his eyes at the message on his phone. He can tell time perfectly well, thank you. He also has no control whatsoever over how long his rounds take and if he gets stuck talking to a patient’s overly worried family for twenty minutes, answering a dozen questions, there’s nothing he can do about that, either.

 _‘I’m aware,’_ he writes back. _‘Be there asap.’_

He’s glad he decided last minute to bring his suit with him to work instead of assuming he’d have time to go home and change because that would tack on another half an hour to his time, at least. Luckily, now all he has to do is run down to the locker room, grab his bag and suit and get changed out of his scrubs, then he’ll be on his way.

*

The only good thing about hospital functions is the free alcohol. There’s a bar set up as soon as Connor walks in the door and the first thing he does is grab a drink, his eyes scanning the crowd. It doesn’t take him long to spot Will’s mop of ginger hair across the room, his back facing Connor as he talks with Daniel. He’s just starting to head in their direction when Will turns, and that is all it takes to stop Connor where he stands. Their eyes meet and Will has the gall to _smirk_ at him, to finger the end of his tie, and Connor feels his face burn.

It’s the same tie he gave Will after his help with Russell’s case. The same one Will wore the first time they went out dinner because, “it feels appropriate, don’t you think?”

The same tie he came home and found Will in two nights ago, the memory fresh, vivid in his mind, and he can’t stop the way his whole body instantly heats up at just that one simple thought.

* 

_He lets himself into his condo with the thought that all he wants is a long, hot shower, something to eat, maybe a drink, and his bed. That’s it. After the last long, grueling surgery he had today, he’s beat._

_He tosses his keys onto the table, gets as far as dropping his bag right there next to it to be dealt with later, and just as he turns to walk through the living room, he’s stopped dead in his tracks, feet glued to the floor._

_“Welcome home, dear,” Will says in a playful, teasing tone from his spot on the couch._

_Connor has to take a few moments to even breathe; it’s not the fact that Will is in his condo, or stretched out on his couch that’s the problem. No, it’s the fact that from what Connor can tell, judging by what isn’t hidden by the newspaper Will is conveniently holding up, Will is lounging there completely naked._

_“When I gave you a key… this is really the last thing I was expecting,” Connor finally manages to say._

_“Oh?” Will says, looking at him over the top of the newspaper. “What were you expecting?”_

_Connor just shakes his head and bites at his bottom lip, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth because seriously,_ this guy. _There are no words for Will Halstead sometimes. And then he all but swallows his tongue because Will finally moves the newspaper and yeah, he’s naked - all pale, creamy skin stretched out there for the taking - totally naked apart from the familiar blue tie hanging loosely around his neck._

_“I feel like I might be a little overdressed here,” Will continues on as he pushes himself up to stand, doesn’t even bother to wait for Connor to formulate an answer to his previous question. Connor huffs out a small laugh and reaches out, grabs hold of the tie and uses it to pull Will in closer, right into a kiss._

* 

“Doctor Charles, Doctor Halstead,” Connor greets, his voice almost overly tight from his projected sense of calm.

Will is practically _beaming_ , the quintessential cat that caught the canary, and Connor wants nothing more than to strangle him right now. Or fuck him. He would settle for either one at the moment and feel equally satisfied. 

“Doctor Rhodes, so glad you could finally join us,” Will says with his all knowing smile, and Connor narrows his eyes just enough that Will presses his lips together, looking away before he laughs. 

They both know that Daniel is standing right there, probably observing every second of their behavior and analyzing the fuck out of it, but they can’t find it in them to care at the moment. Plus, it’s Daniel. If anyone could figure them out and not care, it would be him.

“Got away as soon as I could, you know how it is,” Connor replies around the rim of his glass, swallowing down a large mouthful. 

“Oh yeah, how’s your patient? I heard you had a quadruple bypass this morning? Intense.”

 _Yes, let’s do this, let’s talk shop_ , Connor thinks. Anything to keep his mind off of other things. “I hesitate to say he’s okay, but the surgery went well. The guy is barely in his 50’s, has four kids at home.” Connor pauses for a moment, the three of them letting that sink in. “It’s a huge miracle that there was even a surgery to perform in the first place. The heart attack he had should have killed him on the spot.”

Daniel opens his mouth to respond and Connor thinks he hears him, partially anyway, because just then Will is idly reaching up to loosen his tie like it’s nothing, no big deal. Connor gulps down the rest of his drink in one hard swallow, doesn’t realize there’s a long pause in the conversation until he sees both Will and Daniel looking at him expectantly and fuck, his turn apparently. What was the question?

“I’m sorry, it’s been—Would you—I’m just—” He points in the direction of the bar and holds up his empty glass before he turns and walks away without further comment. 

Smooth, Rhodes. Real smooth.

*

_As soon as Will’s back hits the bed, Connor is right there on top of him, claiming his mouth in a deep, hungry kiss. Any fatigue he may have been feeling earlier has dissipated, a surge of pure lust and arousal taking its place. He lost his shirt somewhere between the living room and his bedroom door, and he can feel Will clawing impatiently at the front of his jeans._

_“In a hurry?”_

_“Do you have_ any idea _how long I was sitting there?” Will asks, practically breaking the zipper in his haste to get it open as quickly as possible._

 _Connor laughs before he’s kissing Will again, the sound turning into a groan as Will’s hand slides into the front of his pants, eager fingers wrapping around Connor’s cock. It’s an inelegant_ twistshiftshimmy _to get Connor out of the rest of his clothes without Will having to let go, but they get the job done, and it’s as glorious as ever to finally have all skin on skin._

_Will hooks a leg over one of Connor’s hips, gets both hands buried in dark hair as he takes over the next kiss. Connor can’t even find it in him to mind, not when Will is grinding up against him the way he is, their erections trapped between their bellies, the friction just enough to send delicious pleasure sparks shooting through him._

* 

There’s a new glass sitting on the bar in front of him that Connor stares right through, a bead of condensation gradually sliding down its side. It’s a trail Connor can feel plain as day on his skin as sweat prickles down along his spine, and fuck, when did it get so hot in the room? With a quick shake of his head, Connor reaches for his glass and catches sight of Will sauntering over, and he has to bite back a curse because Will looks… He looks smug as hell, for one thing, but he’s also gorgeous, the smirk adding a devilish quality that Connor thinks suits him entirely too well. What a bastard.

“Doctor Rhodes,” Will says as he leans against the bar, ordering another drink for himself. Like more alcohol is really something the two of them need while they’re doing _this_.

“Halstead.”

Neither of them speak again until Will has a fresh bottle of beer in hand, the two of them heading away from the bar again. “So I was thinking,” Will begins, and his voice is pitched low enough to keep their conversation between the two of them, “that you could make your rounds here, say your hellos, shake some hands, and then we could get the hell out of here. What do you say?”

It’s a fantastic idea because Connor doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing here in the first place, other than the fact that Will said they needed to make an appearance. It’s good for morale, he had said. And now that Connor has seen the tie, he figures the whole point was probably to put on this little show in front of everyone, without them ever knowing a thing.

He swallows down a mouthful of his drink, savors the burn on the way down. Takes note of the way the alcohol is already starting to go to his head. “Are you going to be following me around while I do this?”

Will grins. “It’s only fun if I stay close, right?”

Connor presses his lips together, thinks about it for a moment. Fun for _who_? “Fine. But touch your tie one more time and I’m using it against you later.”

Walking away, he realizes how little of a threat that really is. God, he is so screwed. He just hopes he gets through this without losing his job tonight.

* 

_“Connor,” Will gasps out as Connor’s fingers twist deep inside his body. “Come on.”_

_Connor’s answer is to suck a mark to the inside of Will’s thigh, muscle twitching under his mouth. His fingers twist again, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in and Will lets out a groan, rocking back against Connor’s hand, greedy for more. Connor drags his tongue along the tantalizing line where hip meets thigh before he makes the slow slide up along Will’s body, admires the way his pale skin has flushed pink all the way down his chest._

_He presses a kiss to Will’s mouth as he slides his hand away, can’t resist with the way his mouth is so red, so kissable, swallows down the moan Will lets out at the loss his fingers. Then Will is shifting beneath him, pushing with hands and legs until Connor is on his back, Will straddling his lap. They get the condom on together and it’s almost too much, watching Will sink down onto his cock because he’s still wearing that fucking tie, jesus christ, and Connor has to close his eyes, breathe for a second or two before he loses it right then and there._

_As soon as Will starts to move, Connor’s hands slide over his hips, fingers digging into the firm flesh of his ass. It’s almost hypnotizing, watching the swing of the tie as they move together. Connor finds his eyes constantly drawn to it every time he looks somewhere else, and it doesn’t help that everything around the tie is so tantalizing: the skin of Will’s neck, red and glistening now, the dip of his collar bones, right nipple, then left, back and forth as the tie swings, and it all leads straight down to that delicious trail of hair that leads to his cock, hard and leaking and begging to be touched._

_Connor reaches out and curls his fingers around blue silk and tugs, pulling until Will stutters and falls forward, bracing himself with his hands fisted in the sheet above Connor’s head. He looks fucking wrecked but he’s still smiling, drags his tongue along his bottom lip, and Connor bucks up hard against him, that one little thing blowing his mind wide open. He tugs on the tie again, harder this time, lifting his head until their mouths meet in the middle, crushed together in a kiss. It’s sloppy and a little desperate, but they’re starting to lose all sense of rhythm now, the kiss dissolving into nothing but the sharing of air between them._

_“I love the way this tie looks on me,” Will pants, breathless. “It really brings out the blue in your eyes.”_

* 

Never before in his life has Connor had this much trouble with making small talk. Most of the time he doesn’t say much because he doesn’t _want_ to, not because he’s physically incapable, but right now, his brain and his mouth are not working together at all. 

Probably because his upstairs brain and his downstairs brain have synced up and taken over and to hell with everything else. 

His libido hasn’t been this out of control in years, and it’s completely ridiculous. He’s an adult. He’s a fucking doctor, a _surgeon_ for christ's sake, not some horny little teenager with raging hormones that he can’t control.

But then he looks at Will standing a few feet away, watches the way one of his hands comes up to his chest as he throws his head back and laughs, his tie sliding through his fingers, how he glances in Connor’s direction and shoots him a wink like it’s nothing, and fuck. Fuck him.

Connor excuses himself from another useless, poor excuse for a conversation and moves on. He doesn’t see the point in keeping this up any longer. He can’t do it. He’s so done. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” he says once he makes his way over to Will and the small group he’s entertaining, even though he’s really not sorry at all, one of his hands clamping down on Will’s shoulder. “But is it all right if I steal him for a minute?”

“Me?” Will asks, the picture of perfect innocence.

“One minute,” Connor repeats before they excuse themselves from the group. 

“What are we doing?”

“Leaving. Now.”

*

_“I broke something. You broke something. Something’s broken.”_

_Connor snorts and rolls his head to the side, looks over at Will sprawled out next to him. He’s staring up at the ceiling as he tries to catch his breath, skin still flushed and slick with sweat, tie draped across one shoulder._

_“Fuck, that was good,” Will breathes, and he looks a little punch-drunk when he finally looks over at Connor._

_“You think?” Connor asks, propping himself up on one elbow and reaching over, pulling the tie from around Will’s neck. He almost doesn’t want to get rid of it, but he does anyway, tossing it over the side of the bed to let it fall to the floor._

_“You_ don’t _think?”_

_“Please,” is all Connor says before he’s leaning over, pressing a kiss to Will’s lips. “Staying tonight?”_

_“I still can’t feel my legs. Couldn’t leave if I wanted to.”_

*

They manage to make it all the way through Connor’s front door before he’s on Will in an instant, pressing him back against it and claiming his mouth in a deep kiss. He commends himself on not jumping Will the second they hit the parking lot, or as soon as they were in the car, because he _really_ wanted to kiss Will in the car, but his restraint was solid, his control still a little bit intact. 

All bets are off now, though, and Connor wastes no time devouring Will’s mouth with hungry kisses, all of his frustration from tonight beginning to pour out. He pulls Will away from the door and starts the shuffle toward the bedroom, pushing Will’s jacket off over his shoulders before he shrugs out of his own. 

“Do you have _any_ idea…” he starts but gets lost in how dark Will’s eyes are, the mischievous glint he still sees there, Will’s hands untucking his shirt from his pants.

“Tell me about it, Doctor Rhodes,” Will says because he’s a little shit, a smirk playing on his lips. “Show me.”

Connor all but shoves him the rest of the way to the bedroom, and he takes great pleasure in undoing the knot on Will’s tie, slowly sliding it from around his neck. The blue strip of silk gets wrapped around Will’s wrists next, binding them both together and tied in a knot, nice and snug. Will looks back at him with his eyebrows raised just before he gets pushed back into the bed, and Connor lifts his arms, pins his hands down above his head.

“Don’t move.”

He watches the way Will’s eyes seem to darken even more, pupils blown wide, the way he swallows hard, the slight nod of his head. Connor takes a moment to reach up, loosening his own tie, undoing the buttons on his sleeves, his gaze not shifting away from Will’s prone form for a second. 

“Is this what you wanted?” Connor asks, taking his time on the row of buttons along the front of his shirt. “Mission accomplished?”

“I wanted-- _want_ whatever you give me,” Will answers, his eyes trained on Connor’s hands as he works on buttons, then shrugs out of his shirt. “Anything, Connor.”

Connor leans down over Will, braces a palm against the mattress. His free hand comes up, his thumb sliding along Will’s lower lip, shiny and so sinfully pink. “Anything, huh?”

When they got back to his condo, Connor was expecting a frenzy with him leading the way. The low thrum of arousal he’d been feeling all night coupled with an adequate level of frustration is the perfect recipe for clothes flying, need it, want it, have to have it now, now, _now_. But now that they’re here in the safety of his bedroom, the arousal is still there but the brakes have been tapped and Connor is on board with this new slow pace. He looks at Will laid out on his bed still dressed, hands tied above his head, and thinks he could happily take his sweet time, enjoy the fuck out of this for a while.

It just so happens that Connor knows how so very pretty Will is when he begs – he did say _anything_ , didn’t he?


End file.
